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 Prologue:
It started off like any new day, busy feeding the monster dog,
trying to get ready for our own work and gearing up for the chaos
about to greet us on the motorway. But this was not going to turn
out to be a straightforward day as we thought.
Like any good movie
such as, Ice Age, Shrek, and finding Nemo, this day would bind our
family, test our reserves, and make "Babe" look like a
disturbing Paris Hilton flick. This day had the makings of a great
blockbuster movie and I hope Peter Jackson is reading this right now
and asking himself "King Kong,
who the hell is King Kong, I want Finding Moogie"
And why not? This
movie plot has desperation, scandal, sex, or de-sexing depending on
how you look at it. A beautiful heroine, (Sarah) and a rather
dashing hero (Me) and a story line with more twists than John
Travolta prostate on a porcupine. It also has love, devotion, a
special friend in need and most of all a fairy tale ending.
You just can’t beat it.
Finding Moogie is, in
a way, a true tale of chance and fate. So take a seat, grab your
popcorn, put your feet up, turn off your cell phones and enjoy.
"Finding Moogie"
 Sarah
arrived at her work around 7.30am and was delighted to receive an
e-mail from Cheryl Litchwark asking us if we were able to look
at a big boy who was in the pound. Cheryl had attached a photo of
this boy and when my Sarah opened it up, it was like a Guppy to a
Hapuka…yep…her eyes sparkled and she wanted him. I’m sure she was
dialing my number before she had finished reading the e-mail. I got
the call within seconds of my Sarah seeing this lovely boy appear on
her screen. I’m also certain I heard a whimper in her voice as she
told me of this boy’s plight, pleading down the line for me to read
the e-mail as quick as I could. I was rather busy, but we had both
wanted a boy to add to our big girl, Lottie. So I rushed back to the
office to read the e-mail. I was really busy at work, but like
Sarah, when I opened the photo… I was hooked, lined and sinkered.
This big black snotty nosed, drooling, slobbering mess of a boy with
big brown sad eyes, was staring at me from my desk. I sat for a
second, took in this amazing creature, studied his mask and like a
Guppy to a Hapuka…I knew he was for us. Next was the quickest
conference call you have ever witnessed, a family discussion, my
Sarah was jumping from the other end of the phone, yelling at me to
get my backside down to the pound. I was already driving like a mad
man to the pound anyway, because…wait for it…(here is the
desperation part of the movie). We only had 48 hours to seal the
deal… or…HE WAS OFF TO THE SPCA.
I rang ahead at
around 8.15am and it went straight to voice mail. "Sorry the
pound does not open until 10.00am". Bloody District Councils,
what ever happened to office hours? I started to panic as around
that time I was meant to be in a meeting. I quickly shifted things
around and made arrangements to have cover so I could attend the
Pound. Next thing was, I couldn’t bloody find the pound…when I did
find it, it was stuck back from the street and looked like a hostel
for backpackers, not the Pound I’d expected.
Sarah was also
ringing me ever other minute wanting to know the progress, which at
each phone call was…NOTHING………. That went down like pumpkin
ice cream with hazel nut relish dipped in Paul Newman’s dressings…I
think you get the picture.
I arrived at the
pound by 10.05 am. I didn’t need to explain who I was, as the 50
phone calls and messages were enough to give them an idea of my
fanatical mentality. I was told this big boy was in the playpen. So
in my best working wear, I walked through the endless gates and pens
heading towards Moogie.
As I walked, I became
aware of little eyes watching me, flaring nostrils punching the air,
pushed up against mesh walls. The number of dogs looking at me from
behind mesh walls saddened me. I saw dog 16 was due to ship out that
day.
All of a sudden, I
came to this big dry concrete floored room and looking through the
walls, I saw… this big boy.
He was lying in the
shadows and I could just make out his line. His chin seated firmly
between his paws, his head huge in size and darkest colour, pushed
down towards the floor. It sort of looked like a bowl of black mince
had been dropped and lay splayed out on the ground. I stopped, took
a beat, and softly called out "hello big boy". With this,
what was previously a pile of mince rose up and formed this enormous
head; the lumber sized tail began to beat from side to side. He
effortlessly pushed his frame from the floor and stood tall, looking
at me. His face full of wrinkles and history lit up and started to
shine. But, the first thing I noticed about this big boy was…the
slobber, it was everywhere, down his front, on his paws, in his
ears and it was still attached to his joules leaking outward towards
the ground. It looked like a centipede had set up a ladder and
continually wanted to run up and down it. But…
he was beautiful.
I rang Sarah from the
pen. She had already made arrangements with her work to take a long
lunch and was on her way to the pound to see this boy. We had to
introduce the big girl Lottie to Moogie to see if they got on and
Sarah picked her up before coming down. As per usual, when Lottie
meet Moogie, she wouldn’t leave him alone. She was all over him, but
Moogie just took each nip, paw, push in his stride. We knew they
would get on and so we started the paperwork. Sarah had already made
a list of the things we needed and the budget for the month had just
gone out the back door.
But now comes the
twist. We could not have
Moogie until after 5.00pm on the Thursday. As that was when his time
for ownership was up. Sarah and I both understood that if the owners
of Moogie did show we would be disappointed, but still he had been
in the pound 5 days already and we wondered if Moogie was that
loved, why did the owners not find him. I know that if Lottie had
gone missing I’d be on national TV proclaiming her as kidnapped and
willing the FBI to get involved. We just had to wait.
Moogie had to be
checked by the vet and it was found that his left eye had an ulcer
and he needed surgery. We got a call from Linda telling us of the
cost and we didn’t care. We still did not have ownership of Moogie
but we didn’t care, he needed it and he was going to get it. Now
here’s the scandal part. That night, on Wednesday the 13th
September, the day after we had meet Moogie, the pound had been
burgled and dogs had been stolen. How did I know this? I heard it
come over the Police radio? I’d been working in the area and
recognized the address straight away. I was on the phone, ringing
the young constable who had attended the pound. I was relieved to
find that a number of pit bull terriers had been taken, but our
Moogie was still in his pen. We still had another night to go before
he was ours. I went to the pound to full out more forms and was
unable to see the big boy. That hurt Sarah, as she wanted to know
how he was getting on. We still had to wait.
Thursday 5.00pm,
Moogie was ours. I can’t explain it, but I know you will understand
how it feels. Sarah was a mess, rushing around organizing
everything, sending out lists of things to do, re-arranging the
sleeping arrangements for Lottie and Moogie. We were running around
getting food, a walking leash, a collar and chew toys, finding extra
blankets and water bowls. It was pathetic. But Moogie was
special. We had no idea of his history and we wanted to make him
part of our family.
Moogie needed to be
de-sexed and have his eye lift done. He was off to the vets on
Friday morning and I will admit this, on the Thursday night I’d
asked one of the local Bobbies to keep good tabs on the pound. The
last thing we wanted was another twist to this story. That was a
rather sleepless night for Sarah and I, as we just had to wait. I
know you don’t know my Sarah, but patience…is not one of her
virtues, so waiting was causing her some concern.
The night went by
without any problems and Moogie went off to the vets. We received
the call that things went well and we could pick him up at around
3.00pm.
 We
arrived early and waited like patient parents, well one of us was
patient you can figure out which one. I think I heard him before I
saw him. His snorting and snuffling from behind the door was as
recognizable as a pointing sign saying, "I’m here Dad, over here
Dad". The door opened and although he was very sore, his face
lit up and that big tree sized tail was playing disco inferno
furiously thrashing out a tune. He was beautiful,
"Time to take you home Moogs."
Moogie has now been with us for six days and he is a treasure. He
and Lottie get on well although at times we have to give Moogie a
break and put Lottie in her kennel, as an eight-month-old puppy does
tend to wear him down. He has quickly taken to us as we to him. He
is part of our family and we love him dearly. The last six days has
been a whirlwind of anticipation, hope and trust.
I know that taking on
a dog without knowing his history is challenging, but "Finding
Moogie" was priceless.
The fairy tale
ending, Take care,
Lottie and Moogie.
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 I
have been a fan of your website for about 18mths....brilliant.
I am in Wellington and I have always had "refugee" fur people
....mostly Labradors and an Abyssinian cat. When one of my old
beloved Labs died I thought I would get a companion for my younger
Lab so naturally went looking for a refugee Lab i.e. a Lab that
needs a home.
I was trawling around and came across
your website. There I saw a photo and it captured me. It was an
Irish Wolfhound, put on your site by Dog friends of Albany
Auckland. It was that photo, it just stuck with me.......
When I was a kid I grew up with
animals and my uncle had 2 Irish Wolfhounds. Beautiful
creatures.....noble, huge, gentle, very loving. They always kept
an eye on the children. No one would dare question an Irish
Wolfhound...so we (the cousins) were safe as houses. We cuddled
them and even rode them. They just gracefully accepted their role
as the king of the pets and guardians of the masters most precious
things...the children. We were a rollicking Irish family. That was
in Adelaide South Australia, many many years ago and here was this
wolfhound in Auckland...
They are huge - the giant of dogs. I thought and thought and
contacted Leanne Barry with questions which she answered...and I
thought.. then in February 05 I went up to meet this giant dog.
The Barry family were wonderful. Dianne introduced me to "himself"
Finnegan and Finnegan and I spent some time together and we took a
punt - we would give it a go. So Finnegan came south....in the
back of the Holden Commodore station wagon, with stops at Taupo
and of course Hunterville and Levin amongst many.
He was one cool dude. The Labrador reserved judgement. She was
holding top dog position against this giant and then we got home
and Finnegan threw up ... a lake...on the carpet. That was over a
year ago. It's now March 06 and Finnegan is a very happy lad and
we are all impressed with him. He is intelligent, very
affectionate. He just loves his cuddles and being told he is a
good boy. He is sometimes very funny (it's an Irish Wolfhound
trait), minds his manners and is gradually making peace with the
Abyssinian. And yes Grady the Labrador at 11 years old is still
top dog.
So I say to those thinking...oh I cant
have a dog in case I go away ..or the dog will be too big......or
I'll have a dog later.....when I'm older and can spare more
time.......or other excuses.....
just open your door and offer love,
shelter, food, water, companionship and exercise. Your whole life
will be enhanced.
I have taken on dogs and cats. One dog
at age 13. Her owners didn't think anyone would take her. They had
her pencilled in at the vets for euthanisation ...They had moved
up in socio economic status and the old Huntaway Lab Builders dog
just wasn't wanted anymore.......(she was a wonderful dog, always
a builders dog, always full of character. We loved her very
dearly. She lived til she was nearly 17! Ironically she outlived
her builder ex master...!
And a beautiful black Lab from the SPCA aged 8. Her family dumped
her. They were "going overseas"...She lived a very happy life,
well into her 13th year.
I know of at least 2 families who have
re located here from the UK ....WITH their dogs. It is expensive
to take your dogs/cats. I think that personifies a family truly
loving their animals as part of the family.....
Once again BRAVO for your
website......
Cheers
Jennifer and family and fur family
Wellington
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